It was sweet to him to
have something to caress. Now in the solitude of his life, as
years were coming on him, he felt how necessary it was that he
should have someone who would love him. Since his wife had left
him he had been debarred from these caresses, by the necessity of
showing his antagonism to her dearest wishes. It had been his duty
to be stern. In all his words to his daughter he had been governed
by a conviction that he never ought to allow the duty of
separating her from her lover to be absent from his mind. He was
not prepared to acknowledge that that duty had ceased;--but yet
there had crept over him a feeling that as he was half conquered,
why should he not seek some recompense in his daughter's love.
'Papa,' she said, 'you do not hate me?'
'Hate you, my darling!'
'Because I am disobedient. Oh, papa, I cannot help it. He should
not have come. He should not have been let to come.' He had not a
word to say to her. He could not as yet bring himself to tell
her,--that it should be as she desired. Much less could he now
argue with her as to the impossibility of such a marriage as he
had done on former occasions when the matter had been discussed.
Pages:
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899